


They're Just Sitting on the Fire Escape idk

by A_Whale_Named_George



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Established Relationship, Fluff, How Do I Tag, Idiots in Love, M/M, my sister taught me how to tag, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Whale_Named_George/pseuds/A_Whale_Named_George
Summary: Race is an attention seeking brat and Spot is a worried boyfriend. Sweet and simple.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	They're Just Sitting on the Fire Escape idk

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic and I am trying my best but I still have a serious show instead of tell syndrome. I hope it is enjoyable to read. By the way, the song Race is humming is Tavern Song from Hunchback of Notre Dame

Racetrack was in the paper. _Racetrack was in the paper_. Race couldn't bloody believe it, his filthy mug was front page worthy!

It was a while into the night and he was humming some song he heard them drunks sing at the bar, right after he put the littles to bed. Something like da da do da da da la la la la dead of the winter dark of the night winter blah blah blah i-oh-de-host. _Whateva_ Racetrack had places to be. Like Brooklyn.

With Jack missing he was in charge and it would be easy to sneak out. Heck, with Jack not here he could walk through the front door!

"Specs you's in charge," he said pointing to the boy in question while walking down the stairs and to the door, "I's goin' to Brooklyn"

"Course you's are. You wanna show off to _Spot Conlon_ " Albert called after him. 

"So what if I do I am Famous," Race said with flare

Specs just shook his head "Be back before circulation loverboy I worry" 

Racetrack knew the way to Brooklyn like the back of his hand. Maybe even better than 'Hatten. From newsies square you go to the right and then around the corner of that odd lookin' building and then it was just muscle memory. Over the bridge was both Comforting and scary cause, on one hand, he never learned how to swim, and looking down was nerve-racking, but on the other hand, the bridge had a wonderful view even at night and it was Brooklyn how couldn't you love it. 

Again with the muscle memory. Race ran through Brooklyn with only the paper(with _his_ face on it) in his paper bag.

________________

It is a known fact that it does not matter if you are the president you will not get into Brooklyn lodging after nine without help.

It is also a known fact that Racetrack had help.

He knocked on the window sitting on the fire escape to what was Spot's private room. "Who," Spot said through the glass bluntly.

"Only the greatest bestest most perfect boyfriend in the world: Racetrack Higgins"

"Bestest isn't a word."

"Who cares Spotty today-"

"Racer is that a black eye?" Spot cut Race off climbing onto the fire escape and pushing Race to the side.

"Well yeah but more importantly-"

"See Race this is why I didn't join the strike. Today it's a black eye tomorrow it's a broken leg. I don't want to see you getting hurt"

Race smiled softly, this is why he loved Spot. Spot who was adorable and protective over everyone he cared for.

"Race if get hurt real bad I'll have to kill ya myself so be _careful"_

"I won't Spotty but what matters is I is Famous"

"Yeah, I saw the papers wondered when you'd show up. You are like a cat that craves affection" what he said tried to sound like an insult but Race could see the smile Spot was trying and failing to hide. 

"You's gon' be famous too soon enough! We's hostin' a rally at Miss Medda's and you gotta hold up your end of the bargain. We stood our ground."

"Alright, Racer I know. Now come inside I's tired"

"Spot, Specs wants me in Manhattan before circulation I can't spend the night" But Race was already through the window. His subconscious deciding for him.

"Well I'm the king o' Brooklyn and we do what we want,"

Race giggled like a kid "Okay but _I_ am king of New York"


End file.
